


and so thy thoughts when thou art gone (love itself shall slumber on)

by pidgewings (violentlypan)



Category: Let's Play Cyberpunk Red - Polygon (Web Series)
Genre: Amnesia, How Do I Tag, Hurt/Comfort, Memory Loss, Multi, Self-Esteem Issues, Temporary Amnesia, except with very little comfort, it's got a semi-happy ending i promise, vang0chainz centric but they're an ot3 trust me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:15:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26259994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/violentlypan/pseuds/pidgewings
Summary: vang0's brain is corrosive- eats through existing memories, leaving ragged, burnt-edge holes behind.normally this is a personality trait. a quirk. doesn't affect much- leaves a few distressing situations behind, sure, awkward explanations- but normally he doesn't forget anythingimportant.he just wishes he couldrememberwhat he'd forgotten.
Relationships: Vang0 Bang0/Burger Chainz, Vang0 Bang0/Burger Chainz/Dapper Dasha
Comments: 8
Kudos: 46





	and so thy thoughts when thou art gone (love itself shall slumber on)

**Author's Note:**

> title from percy shelley's [_music when soft voices die_](https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/45132/music-when-soft-voices-die-to-)

vang0’s memory is like a sieve, most days.

well, no. it’s closer to a sponge. it soaks up information, sure, but give it a squeeze and it loses it just as fast. 

information about jobs is a magician’s deck of cards; names are cotton candy on his tongue; numbers are gaussian-blur dreams, lost to him as soon as he dwells on them. dandelion seeds, smoke, bubbles and chalk; gone with a smudge of fingertips, a burst of wind, a raincloud. pockmarked with holes like emmental.

his friends know this, he hopes. he loses interest in hobbies as soon as he forgets how synthetic yarn wraps around a knitting needle, how to shake a graffiti can and tag his name on concrete walls, how to sketch a face. 

his streamers are so interested, in part, because he doesn’t linger on video games. boots up dead cells, can’t remember which weapons to use when, swaps to warframe and can’t bullet jump. people laugh at him. he’s known for it. it’s a bit, a gag- “don’t you think he’s overexaggerating it,” someone asks, and when he tells them he really can’t remember, they accuse him of lying. 

sticky notes litter his laptop, his pockets, the lining of his coats like butterflies lined up on a tree branch. they paper the wall near where he sleeps in dasha’s apartment; they can’t all fit on the bed so they each have their own designated sleeping space, if they want it. every night vang0 wonders why he picked the closet until he’s inside and his anxieties melt away, only to be replaced with a million questions. when did he write this? what does “feathery gills” mean? he writes a new one once he figures it out, and the next morning it turns into another enigma.

the worst, though, is when he forgets people he cares about.

he reads online that most illnesses of the memory act as a fire, swallowing up a bookshelf; the bottom shelves are the least memorized material. the date of the night city holocaust. the year he thinks he was born. the passwords to his old accounts. the top shelves are stuff that he’s been exposed to often; names of loved ones, locations he visits daily, the way people make him feel.

the scariest parts are when the fire licks high enough to torch one of the books on the top shelf. the people he loves, the people he’s been  _ dating  _ for months;

he physically startles when dasha wraps an arm around his shoulders. he forgets the name of their adopted cat and tries to throw her out on the street before burger stops him. forgets he was ever a streamer, turns on the stream through muscle memory. only realizes when chat notifications come through to his agent.

it keeps him up at night. why does he deserve these people? they hold him close at night when he’s forgotten their birthday the day before; remind him where he is when he blanks out and stands stock-still in the middle of a room, terrified and confused. some days he throws up his sign and can’t remember his own name so he just says “vee bee!” and burger’ll go “that’s you, vang0 bang0!” and it’s like a puzzle piece slots back in. 

it all comes to a head when he bumps into burger and even though they slept in the same bed the night before, he-

stares. 

“vang0!” the person across from him exclaims and wraps him up in a hug and vang0 doesn’t  _ know  _ who this is, scrambles out of his embrace. something feels like an alarm bell in his head, but he doesn’t register it as anything but fear.

“what the fuck are you doing?” he spits. “who are you?”

the person searches his eyes- maybe for recognition? “your… partner?”

“i don’t know who you are,” vang0 tells him. “so stop your bullshit. i’m not interested, okay? i’m taken.”

the guy looks- 

like a kicked puppy, he guesses. something pings again in his brain, snaps at himself like elastic around a wrist, but he just turns away.

“vang0,” the person calls. “it’s me. it’s- it’s me, it’s burger. burger chainz. you- you live in the apartment with me and, and with dasha, our girlfriend.”

he doesn’t stop walking even when the guy tries to get his attention and jogs up alongside him. “vang0-  _ vang0 _ , it’s me- you, you  _ know  _ me, you’ve known me for a year, vang0, please.”

“i don’t know you,” vang0 spits. “i don’t know how you know my name. leave me alone.”

“vang0-”

he takes off, and “burger” doesn’t follow him. just stands there behind him, looking… forlorn.

weirdo.

-

(it hits him like a bomb twenty minutes later and he turns and runs from the conversation he’s been having-)

(finds burger on the steps of their apartment-)

(is swept into a crushing hug and chokes an apology into his shoulder-)

(it’s  _ not fucking okay, _ but it’s enough, maybe, for now.)

**Author's Note:**

> insp by the pcpr discord server and their antics (or should i say angstics?)
> 
> fandom has this fun way of turning very serious things into crackfic and very goofy things (like cyberpunk red) into angstfic. 
> 
> comments and kudos are my caffeine! help me get up early enough for my exercise streams :)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[PODFIC] and so thy thoughts when thou art gone (love itself shall slumber on)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27360496) by [r2_dj](https://archiveofourown.org/users/r2_dj/pseuds/r2_dj)




End file.
